“You can’t back out now!” He spoke quickly. “You’re weakening! And you’ve got to brace up—do you hear?”
The woman’s round face smiled—over the light on the barrel. “I’m all right,” she said. She hesitated a minute.... “It’s the child that’s not all right,” she added slowly. “And tonight I got scared—yes—” She waited a breath.
“What’s the matter?” he said roughly.
She waited again. “She wasn’t like flesh and blood to-night,” she said slowly. “I felt as if a breath would blow her out—” She drew her hand quickly across her eyes. “I’ve got fond of the little thing, John—I can’t seem to have her hurt!”
“Who’s hurting her?” said the man sharply. “You take care of her—and she’s all right.”
“I can’t, John. She needs the outdoors. She’s like a little bird up there—shut up!”
“Then let her out—” said the man savagely. “Let her out—up there!” His lifted hand pointed to the plain about them—in open scorn. He leaned forward and spoke more persuasively, close to her ear—“We can’t back out now—” he said, “the child knows too much!” He gave the barrel beside them a significant tap. “We couldn’t use this plant again—six years—digging it—and waiting and starving!” He struck the barrel sharply. “I tell you we’ve got to put it through! You keep her out of sight!”
“Her own mother wouldn’t know her—” said the woman slowly.
He met the look—and waited.
“I tell you, I’ve done everything,” she said with quick passion. “I’ve fed her and amused her and told her stories—I don’t dare keep her any longer!” She touched the barrel beside them—“I tell you, you might as well put her under that.... You’ll put her under for good—if you don’t look out!” she said significantly.